Tag Archives: Books

On reviewing (& reviews)

21 Sunday Aug 2016

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Island Life, Word Birds & Process #17

The other day I got my first 2* review. (Like many of them often are, it’s not entirely about the story or even the writing & therefore vaguely amusing.) That said, no writer wants them but in a way, they keep us grounded. Can’t please all of the people & so forth…

I never used to review books – not in detail. Whenever I enjoyed one, I star-rated it on Amazon & added a few lines. Once I began receiving ARCs, if I loved one, I made a proper effort. (It’s a privilege to be given a book for free – not an entitlement.)

Being published changes things – you realise how important reviews actually are. Not least in Amazon Land where ratings are God. (I keep my views on the politics of this to myself since I have no power to change anything.) Over the months, from publication deal for Ghostbird to release date & onward, I’ve made friends with many terrific writers on Twitter & Facebook. The reciprocal nature of the support network on social media has encouraged me to review good books in more detail.

I know very quickly if a book is for me or not, often after the first paragraph. As I’m fairly choosy, I’m rarely disappointed. In the event I am, I put it down to experience & move on. If I dislike a book I don’t review it. ‘Playing nicely’ is my online mantra & the view that ‘bad reviews are useful’ is one I strongly disagree with. Bad reviews can break vulnerable writers & where Amazon is concerned, really do affect ratings.

Currently, I’m reading Virginia Woolf in Manhattan by Maggie Gee. It was published two years ago to mixed criticism. (The hardback edition has a pretty dust-jacket reminiscent of the style Vanessa Bell’s adopted to illustrate her sister’s books.) To a degree, I accept that the premise of the book (Mrs Woolf returning from the dead & hanging out with a 21st century novelist in New York) is a colossal conceit. As a life-long admirer of Virginia Woolf I dislike any liberties being taken with her memory, but I have to say, I’m thoroughly enjoying this book.

And I intend saying so.

Maggie-Gee

To ‘squee’ or not to ‘squee’

31 Sunday Jul 2016

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Island Life, Word Birds & Process #15

My default setting with regard to public accolades, and praise of any kind frankly, is fairly low key. It doesn’t mean that when amazing things happen or people pay my writing compliments, I’m not affected. I am charmed, grateful and delighted. Inside, I’m all aflutter but apart from the smile, on the outside it doesn’t particularly show. When Ghostbird was chosen as ‘Waterstones Wales & Welsh Independent Bookshops Book of the Month’ last April, I was gobsmacked. In a dumbstruck, smiley but silent kind of way.

It isn’t false modesty – I simply don’t have the ‘blow your own trumpet’ gene. I genuinely don’t know what to say. I never expected to be published, never mind see my book picked as book of the month.

The other day I discovered one of my favourite book bloggers – Anne Williams – had nominated Ghostbird for the Guardian’s ‘Not the Booker’ prize. Like many people, I’ve heard of the NTB but it simply wasn’t on my personal radar. It wouldn’t have occurred to me in a million years to check for my book. And yet there it is. Out of the enormous number of books she must have read over the past year, Anne has chosen mine.

If anything is going to evoke a ‘squee’ in me, I guess it’s that. Not for being nominated per se – rather, it’s the fact that from day one and her wonderful review of my book for the blog tour, Anne committed herself to it. When she said she would do everything in her power to support me, she clearly meant it. Anne Williams is the tiara on the fairy on the icing on the top of my publishing cake!

anne W

I nominated Maggie O’Farrell’s fabulous This Must Be The Place. (Ms O’Farrell can rest easy – I’m the one on the outside with my nose pressed up against the windowpane being an awestruck admirer.) But my name’s in there somewhere too. I may not be making much noise; inside I am squeeing.

carol 8 dp hat large - Copy
Photograph © Janey Stevens

Due Process

20 Tuesday Oct 2015

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I’m reading a book in which the main protagonist is a High Court Judge. The phrase, ‘due process’ struck me.

‘Process’ is one of those words writers struggle to find an alternative for. The other day, on Facebook, I called it a cliché before reminding myself that most clichés are true.

I’m currently line-editing my book, Ghostbird, a part of the process I’ve never before encountered. I knew about editing and proofreading (and the crucial difference between the two.) I knew what copy-editing was. And I understood the need to be edited. What I had no previous experience of was a professionally line-edited manuscript.

The reality of it took my breath away.

I opened the document and was hit in the face by a waterfall of highlighted, struck-through, underlined wordage, accompanied by ‘comments’ in assertive boxes.

One thing was clear. I wasn’t going to be allowed to get away with anything. Not if it wasn’t in the best interests of my story.

And breathe… Because that’s what you have to do. What I decided I had to do. Take a great big breath and knuckle down. In some ways, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s one thing to choose to kill your darlings – it’s between me and them and I’m quite good at it now. I even have a file called ‘Dead Darlings.’ (You never know…) It’s another thing entirely to see them ‘offed’ by a third party!

All of that apart, it’s definitely the most rewarding part of the process. And like all the other steps, it’s the first time and needs to be cherished. Several published writers have urged me to savour each step of the process because there will never be a repeat of those magical ‘first’ moments. Getting the offer of publication and accepting it. Taking delivery of a contract, creating a cover and the myriad other ‘firsts’ involved in one’s first book.

Not least, the editing.

And the line edit is where the magic happens. I’m fortunate – my editor is gifted. She is wiser than Yoda (I’m not kidding) and she knows stuff. With her keen eye and gentle insistence, my little book emerges – a butterfly from her chrysalis.

In which the itch to write returns & I guiltily mourn the decline of the servant class

29 Tuesday Sep 2015

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It is a fact universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a completed novel has either a wife or a maid. I have neither. I am a woman who lives alone (by choice – I’m not sad or anything.) And in any case, even if I could afford one, my socialist inclinations make me feel slightly guilty at the idea of employing another woman to do my housework.

I am also a woman who has a love-hate relationship with procrastination.

Recent events have kept me from my writing. The timing was interesting. I’m waiting for my Editorial Notes (please forgive caps – still excited and can hardly believe I’m even due any.) With draft zero Book 2 tucked away for the duration I was at a bit of a loose end anyway. I had my notes for Book 3 to play with and an unexpected trip to Cornwall to visit my family fitted very nicely thank you.

I’ve been back for two weeks now and once again, the Muse nags. The other day I dipped into The Hours by Michael Cunningham and a scene near the beginning where Mrs Woolf (for it is she) takes herself downstairs in the early, seductive writing hour, helps herself to coffee and proceeds in the direction of her study via the printing room. Leonard (already at his proofs) waylays her.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
“I’m having coffee with cream for breakfast. It’s enough.”
“It’s far from enough. I’m going to have Nelly bring you a bun and some fruit.”
“If you send Nelly in to interrupt me I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

And this, dear reader, is where Mrs Woolf and I part company. I long for a ‘Nelly’ to interrupt me with a bun and some fruit: blessed Nelly, who would then disappear and attend to the chores leaving me free to create deathless prose. Or, at the very least, get to grips with the latest notes for Book 3. My scribbles are accumulating and I need to get them organised while I wait for my EN’s.

I can feel a return to work coming on. In the absence of a Nelly, I must make an effort.